The Road To Hell
by Rossi
Summary: Midnight Nation - Laurel ponders David's future on the Long Walk


Disclaimer: The characters belong to J. Michael Straczynski and are used without permission or profit. No insult intended, only homage. Takes place during Issue 5 of Midnight Nation, fitting in between pages 18 and 20.  
  
Rating: PG for some nasty imagery and hinted violence.  
  
Feedback: Greatly appreciated and always replied to eventually; rossifics@yahoo.com.au  
  
For Dark Mark - a non-X story.  
  
***  
  
[Midnight Nation] The Road To Hell.  
  
By Rossi.  
  
***  
  
He was going to die.  
  
Laurel looked across at the man sitting on the other side of the fire, watching the shadows play across his face, the gleam - almost feverish - in his blue eyes. David had lost weight, in the course of their journey, and for a moment it was like looking at a skull. She closed her eyes on the illusion, and when she opened them again, he was watching her, wearing what she'd come to think of as his 'cop face'. The expression was carefully neutral, but those pale blue eyes didn't miss a thing.  
  
"Something up?" he asked nonchalantly, tossing another stick onto the fire. Out here on the edge of the desert, wood was easier to find; especially when darkness was not an option. His words broke the long silence that had fallen between them.  
  
"Nothing," she replied, her voice steady and holding the tinge of mockery she reserved for him. "You'd best get some sleep. We need to cover more ground than we have; it's taking too long."  
  
He nodded grimly. She may not have seen the marks of his impending transformation appear on his skin, but Laurel had done this trip often enough to know the signs. She'd seen the way his hand had moved to his chest, as if in pain. Time was running out, for both of them.  
  
"You'll take first watch?" he asked, with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She welcomed the way it eased the grimness of his face. It was one of their jokes; a small one, but a joke nonetheless. Laurel took all the watches - she never seemed to need sleep.  
  
"Yeah, I'll take the first watch," she replied with her own hinted smile. "You sleep."  
  
"G'night." He didn't wait for her answer, simply stretched himself out on the ground, pulling his battered coat over him as a blanket. Laurel watched his breathing slow, saw the lines etched into his face relax and smooth themselves away - in sleep, David became the man he had been in the Other Place, before his soul had been stolen and he'd been dragged kicking and screaming Between. Hurriedly, she looked away.  
  
He was going to die, one way or the other. It was taking too long.  
  
"Give it a break," she told herself in a whisper, so she didn't wake him. "Tell me something I don't know." The wind swirled around her, already touched with a chill that spoke of impending winter, laying the small fire flat. She added a few more sticks, and then rose to walk to the edge of the ring of light. She looked out into the shadows, trying not to think of how time was slipping past, trying not to think of what would come next.  
  
"Laurel. When are we. gonna get there.?"  
  
Drake's voice, ringing true in her memory. He'd been in a bad way by the time they'd reached their journey's end, and she'd always known it would be touch and go. But she'd held onto her hope, which was what had made his fall so much worse to bear. What had made it so difficult for her to take on another journey, another burden. They all failed; either she had to kill them, or.  
  
.or they turned. Again, in her mind's eye, she saw the fire flickering off curved stone walls, the shadows alive with hissing, hungry faces, teeth and eyes gleaming. Felt the rough wood beneath her and the manacles on her wrists. It was the last test, the decision that would determine Drake's humanity, and he had failed, like those that had reached this point before him. Pain exploded through her chest and she doubled over. She had laid there, eyes ever hopeful, right up until the moment he had plunged his hand into her chest and ripped out her heart.  
  
"Oh God," she choked, falling to her knees, arms still wrapped around her chest. "Why do I have to do this, over and over again? What did I do?"  
  
There was no answer. There never was, on this side.  
  
There was a slight noise behind her, and she whirled around, fists raised. David backed away, his own hands coming up in a defensive gesture.  
  
"Hey, it's only me. Cool it."  
  
"I thought you were asleep," she said, her tone accusing. David met her anger without flinching.  
  
"I thought I heard something. Want to talk about it?"  
  
"Not particularly." Laurel let the ice return to her voice, her soul. David's expression hardened, became impenetrable.  
  
"Fine," he said shortly. "I just thought after that mess with the other one, your friend."  
  
"You thought wrong. And Drake wasn't my friend." Laurel spoke the words deliberately, hating to do it, but needing to, if she was to keep her resolve and do her best by this man. "He was my charge. Just like you are." She saw the muscles along his jaw tighten, his fists clench, and although it hurt her to see it, it was a good thing. Better that she keep her distance; she would be of more use to him that way. She'd be able to keep her head, when she needed to.  
  
"Right. Sorry. I only meant." David waved away his own words. "I'll keep my good intentions to myself next time." With that, he stomped back over to the fire, and resumed his sleeping position. Laurel could tell from the stiffness in his posture that he wasn't asleep. She turned away, looking up at the cold night sky studded with a million stars gleaming like chips of ice. She turned so he wouldn't see the tears that pooled in her eyes, running down her face.  
  
"I'm sorry," she breathed, barely shaping the words. But if pressed, she would not have been able to say who she was sorry to; David, or Drake, or herself.  
  
The End. 


End file.
